% This work of fiction is set in the format of real-world situations. Identifying details to real people, alive or dead, is entirely coincidental in nature.
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% Sexual safety matters. Guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection and I don't mean going out and hiring a security guard...unless he gives your nuts and bolt a jolt!
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`GeLOuS' O2 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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When people are associated with Jarrett Greene, or his company, Greene's Gems, they learn, that with all the amenities, comes allegiance to not only the person, but the firm itself. An international company, dealing in precious stones, Jarrett counts on every individual, keeping the wheels of the running of his business well oiled, in good working condition.
But it is not only of concern, the business itself, but those in his personal life that Jarrett has regard for, like the young surfer whom he personally attended to, being caught off guard by some thug.
"You know Jarrett, you took a chance coming to his aid?"
"I can't believe, after all these years, knowing how I can be," Jarrett steps forward, as if on the attack, approaching his detective friend with intent, "that you would dare insult me in such a way, Alejandro..Jose.. Montana..Quilla?"
Jarrett, still wearing nothing but the bear skin rug on his chest, holds the detective in custody, neatly dusting off the dark jacket he is wearing. It would not constitute aggressive behavior, brushing both knuckles down Alejandro's jacket, sweeping over the sides of the cub's chest, making little peaks form, which can be seen through the thin fabric.
However, Detective Quilla does accuse, "you know how I hate when you do that in public?"
Looking around, the police were still attending to details with apprehending the culprit who got away. After Alejandro had done his job, those types of details were out of his hands, giving way to personal time with his old friend. That's how he and Jarrett came to stand beside the vehicle next to Flip's jeep, with the cracked window.
"In public?" Jarrett got a little more frisky.
Alejandro stared point blank into Jarrett's face, as one of his hands frisked the detective below the belt. He was ever grateful his part of the investigation, for now, was at a close.
"Wait till I get you fully out of the public view, eh detective?"
Getting quite the stimulating tool, no secret to Jarrett's fingertips, slipping one hand down to connect with something growing in Alejandro's pants. Like the good detective he is, he kept vigilant, a watchful set of eyes, glancing back over his shoulder, peering at the two police cars, making sure the others were attending to business, while his friend attended to theirs!
"Oh man, Jarrett?"
In sweet pain, Alejandro was suffering the sweet emotion, a result of the continued effort of Jarrett's hands. One stoking the fire, the back of a hand feeling up one side of his jacket, which upon finding the bump underneath, pinpointed the place to reek havoc upon, tweaking the right nip...then left.
"Oh man, Jarrett," Alejandro then saying something in an old Peruvian dialect.
"I love it when you talk to me in Spanish."
Eyes still closed, feeling the nip and cock teasing, "it's not just Spanish. It's..."
"Whatever it is, it's all good, right?"
"Yeah, but," Alejandro takes a quick look back at the patrol cars. Spotting what he thinks as a cop breaking off from the group, coming their way, he grabs Jarrett by the wrist, "you better stop."
From their carefree days of bondage and discipline, Jarrett revives, "the hand?"
Quickly Alejandro drops the hold he has on Jarrett's wrist, adding a tweak of a smile, "I miss those days. Do you?"
Jarrett's answer? "Any time you're up for it, I am!"
Both knew why not, Alejandro saying about his boyfriend, "if Patrick even knew I was letting you play with me," Jarrett still keeping him hard, "well, you know the punishment?"
Surely Jarrett did, which made him drop both hands, "well I suppose I should stop, before you mess your pants," he laughs. "Wouldn't want you to have to go for a whole week without coming, all because of little ole me!"
In the sweet pain of indecision, Alejandro's cute Peruvian face, the beard, it helping to show the twist and turns of pain, "sorry for both of us."
"Yeah," Jarrett was truly sorry he ever chose to just play the field and not settle down.
Feeling his own erection in his pants, Alejandro says, "too bad you have to leave me like this."
Game-players, this has been going on for years. It has very little rules attached. There are many players of the game; men within Jarrett's company, townsmen, from high positions in government, to the more lowly positions of garage mechanics, cafe owners, the businessman not affiliated with Greene's Gems and others, mostly gay men who gather to live out some pretty wild fantasies, all bent on keeping the edge of what can be stressful lives.
"Oh no," Jarrett turns to Alejandro, "I'm sure your boyfriend will catch up with you later? Oh! My ride's here!"
He leaves Alejandro in such a catch-22. On one hand, his hands want to finish with perking a nip and jerking off his pent up emotion. The other, he would much rather leave the built up pangs of wanting to jump the gun, to his boyfriend, Patrick.
Jarrett, entering his `pick-up', yells back to him, "you wouldn't want Patrick to find out that you got yourself off now, would you?"
His personal driver, not your typical limo driver, but rather an ordinary looking dude, Hawaiian shirt, shorts, the shirt unbuttoned to reveal everything underneath, adds word of his own, "y'know, I think Ale would feel disappointed if we didn't mention a word to his boyfriend?"
"You could be right, Dane."
If a person was standing there, taking all this in, clues would be missing which could make some sense to all this.
Starting with Jarrett, he's been the pinnacle of a group of friends, who started as a small bunch of college friends and like the network of his business, what they did off company time, has grown to encompass a whole network of men having fun, letting off steam, doing what turns them on.
They have jobs, make a living, some, like the `straights', families. Though, when the day is over and they like to escape from the strains of what life throws at them, there's the extracurricular part of living. Those whom have found the right partner in life have an advantage, 24/7 of living with happiness as they carve it out to be.
"Told you Jarrett, I've got the world figured out," he turns up his current favorite tune, `Dean Man Walking'.
Time and time again, this has been the debate, Jarrett again leading, "I can't understand how you manage to mix being gay and religion?"
In between singing out the lyrics, which has Jarrett rolling eyeballs, like a dad trying to understand his teenage son's tastes in music, Dane refutes, "it's not just religion, Jarrett, it's more about faith and..."
At least he got Dane to stop singing!
Jarrett, who hasn't thrown on a shirt yet, sits back, places hands behind his head, allowing Dane to philosophize, flaunting dark pits. He does put arms down, realizing the ripeness!
Winding down, Dane coming to some kind of conclusion, which Jarrett has not really been following, the witness speech always being nearly the same, "you're right again, Dane."
Not immune to his boss' logic, "oh really? Like, did you understand everything I said?"
"Of course. What do you take me for...an idiot or something?"
Smiles between the two, it ironed out any opinions either might have about the subject of listening, hearing, comprehension.
Dane wasn't required to follow his boss everywhere like a puppy dog, but the one sweaty, grimy day Jarrett decided to go to the beach, Dane had something of urgency to take care of. Shame too, because he liked it there, surfing, scoping out the boys, getting a tan. There was much to keep a guy occupied. He never had an appointment with a `board', but Flip always made sure he had one.
Strange thing, even though Jarrett knew the beach was `there', he rarely went, but once a year, when a few friends gathered for their annual beach volleyball game and picnic. It's just this one day Jarrett didn't have much to do and it was Dane who put the idea in his head. Though, when Jarrett asked the 26-year old to accompany him, that's when Dane informed him of the family business he had to attend to. If Dane had been with Jarrett, perhaps one of them could have gone to Flip's aid, while the other ran after the perpetrator.
Rather than return to the subject of religion, Jarrett starts off on another tangent, "oh, and how did that little problem go with you?"
For a few weeks Dane has been trying to get his mom into an assisted living facility, having a hard time. Two weeks prior, he had shown up to a gathering of friends.
It was while he was stripped naked, arms fastened overhead, legs spread and tied off, they all got to the reason Dane was feeling down and depressed.
"C'mon now, son. Tell daddy what's eatin' you up?"
Jorge is a sweet man. He would never intentionally do anything to hurt a man...unless that's how they preferred it!
With a pair of boxing gloves on, Adom says, "if you want, I can help find out?!"
He made a motion which made them all crack up, bring a glove forward, as if striking Dane in the stomach, then up, 'underneath', setting off both a mix of laughter and what would produce a dull, painful ache out of Dane's mouth.
Much as Jorge knew his lover would love the gut-punching and use of his balls for a punching bag, some things were meant to be shared by lovers, "really, Adom?"
"Oh. Sorry," the off duty police officer gathers his whits, banging boxing gloves together, "I don't know what came over me, hee-hee!"
What a faker! Everyone very well knew what drew the attention to Dane and no one had more to blame than Dane himself. Though only a Viking of 6-feet tall, he had the sturdy build of one of the ancient warriors. Every since he can remember, Dane has been working out at the gym. At 26-years old he can almost boast definition of any leading muscleman. His favorite position had him standing there, leather cuffs around wrists, arms being pulled overhead and to the side. Like breathing in an aphrodisiac, the freedom taken away, arms hauled overhead, stretched outward, opens up his taut chest, abs, giving anyone the freedom to break down the stealth bod. He wasn't totally into c.b.t., but if someone, like Adom, could get his jollies by lightly using his big sacs for a punching bag, the intermittent jabs to the abs...it wasn't all about what he got out of it that turned him on, Dane liked to please the guys too. In the small circle they played, only one of the guys could take a boxing-glove shot to between the legs and fully sigh at the beautiful feeling it felt, when hit with a punch there.' He also knew the follow up. To every punch to the nuts, there would be twenty of so gut-punches. Oh man', would that be the apex of his willing surrender, feeling all that muscle mass built up, another man trying to tear it down? It wasn't only the feel, but Dane loved to hear the sound of Adom's glove, as it pummeled his abs, the slapping of leather against skin.
However, finding out what irked Dane, Jorge was there to `loosen his tongue'.
Not only that it served to stir up his emotions, but Jarrett was like the Godfather of making sure everyone went well for everyone in life.
"Y'know, Jarrett, you don't have to stand here."
"Yes I do."
"Don't you want to, like, go find someone else to play with?"
"You don't need a co-interrogator?"
That's the thing, anyone could ask anyone to leave a scenario for whatever reason, except where it came to Jarrett. If they had a tough time talking him out of being there, after the first try they knew enough to give up!
"Fine. Stay if you must."
Smiling, Jarrett says, "I must!"
Positioned, Dane had been hanging there in his bondage for the past five minutes, wrists with leather cuffs, arms stretched up, overhead, posed slightly outward. Not an ounce of fat on his bod, every area could be easily distinguished, bulging biceps, impeccable pecs, red nips on a smooth chest, each side ending in a mass of pit hair. Slender, Dane took pride in building his abs, taut when stretched, now vulnerable to a naked fist. When sitting, or in a relaxed position, arms at his side, his stomach slack, his deep navel disappeared in the fold. Stretched out like this, well his partner, Jorge, knew what little quirks he had.
Taking his finger, Jorge wet it and then touched Dane's bellyhole.
"Like, what's that gonna do?" Jarrett questions. "Here," he makes Jorge step aside, "allow me."
He knew Jarrett was a top, but Jorge also knew he could bend over, like he is now, and get with some activities himself figured was demeaning. Like, the very thing, Jarrett bending over at his waist, to reach just above Dane's waist, for the simple task of swabbing out his not-so-deep navel with a tongue!
When Jarrett pops up, wiping the saliva from his mouth with the back of his hand, Jorge comments, "oh, that'll make him talk, alright."
"Oh?" Jarrett comments comically, "you thought I was doing it for his benefit?"
"We're supposed to be interrogating him, you ninny!"
Jorge could get away with ridiculing Jarrett. Like some of the others, they were neighbors in the same locale and around the same age, either graduated together or were a year ahead or behind in school.
"Watch your step there, daddy', or you'll find yourself tied eagle-spread and at my' mercy!"
He knew Jarrett could be a lot of talk and exchanging glances on that one, they were thinking ropes, but more the prospect of getting between the sheets, a fight to the finish, which fighter could achieve getting their hard shaft up the other's ass, the fastest!
Before they get too much into themselves, the third person says, "hey, isn't this supposed to be about me?"
"He's right," Jorge knows he's bursting the boss' bubble.
If it came to it, where they had a real fight of trying to force one of the other faced down and stabbing them in the back, Jorge knew he would appear to put up a good fight, but let Jarrett win. As for getting `stabbed in the back', there's always a first time!
"Don't mind me," Jarrett steps away, "I guess I'll stand over here, be quiet and observe."
Instead of a contest which would end one way, Jorge caves and gives his son' something he immensely enjoys. Dane not only likes what's being down to him, thumbs pressing against his stomach, stretching his navel while Jorge tongues the moderately deep innie, but knows if he holds out long enough, he will suffer' more sweet torture.
Which...is why Jorge is making Dane drop his head back in ecstasy, each time he bends over, sticks his tongue in his partner's navel and digs with the tip.
Even though he gets a kick out of a dominant top like Jorge, bending to stimulate his partner, Jarrett jokes, "wow, you won't believe how boring this is getting?!"
Even though Jarrett is the head honcho, this is between him and Dane, Jorge putting his tongue to another use, "you said you were going to be quiet, Jarrett. Do I have to gag you?"
They exchange smiles, Jarrett saying, "no. That's okay. I'll be quiet, `sir'!"
They flash smiles back at each other, an alternate silent gesture to send a message. Like, how many times have they wanted to jump in the sack together, bear-to-bear, gotten down with it, sweaty fur, fighting for dominating, one over the other?
"Now, my beauty," Jorge turns back to his lover, a finger sliding down the Viking's sleek abs, "I noticed you've been a little tense lately?"
Because his family had asked to keep this matter a `family matter', Dane has been reluctant to share, "uh, my dad asked me to let him take care of it, but..."
One of the beautiful things, which drew Dane to Jorge, from that first moment, not only the bald, shiny head, the full beard, fully massed chest of hair, stripe down the middle, opening up to a stomach of hair, some of the original stuff that garnered Dane's interest in Jorge, but that sympathetic look, "oh, but you chose to keep something from Daddy at the same time, too?"
It was certainly phasing Jarrett, watching Dane stretched out in bondage and having the smoothie being eyed up and down by his Daddy-bear, the interaction...restrained to keep silent. By word, it didn't stifle Jarrett's hand, fluffing his then soft shaft, now worked into a mighty sword...
"Um, yeah...well," Dane tried to fight to keep his word to his father.
As the game goes, even if there's a real reason to give Dane a little sucker punch in the abs, Jorge begins to torturously loosen his partner's tongue, "now, you don't want Daddy to damage all those visits to the gym, do you?"
"Oh, now this is getting good!"
Once again, Jorge, who has been being patient, turns to Jarrett, "really?"
"Oops! Sorry," Jarrett cups a hand over his own mouth. "It won't happen again." Then to beef up the apology, "you two are so cute together!"
Jorge had thought on it, how to keep Jarrett's opinion to himself by asking him to leave, but one thing he loved, putting on a show of this type of affection.
"Yeah, well get over it, Jarrett?"
"Over it," Jarrett zips his lips shut, in gesture.
Turning back to Dane, Jorge literally hits his lover below the belt. Not with a fist, nor boxing glove, instead he places his naked pubes up against Dane's moderately hairy cock and balls, then placing hands behind his partner's ass, draws their hardware into one mass, "now my big muscle man..."
Predicting he's not going to last long, he figures he is not the only one who will soon be leaking gel. The way Jorge is coaxing the truth out of Dane, not with what the smooth muscleman would like, a few swift punches to the abs or fingers toying with nips, but rubbing pubes together, Jorge simulating fucking Dane between the balls, Jarrett doubts very much Dane will be able to keep the truth to himself.
Yet, the whole reason they are there, why Dane is strung up, his lover trying to make him confess, it's all a put on, much like a flash mob where some dude proposes to another guy, suddenly at the end of the song, bending on knee and pulling out an engagement ring.
Surprise, but not a surprise, Dane slowly draws his words into a confession, "ok, ok...I'll talk!"
"Already?" Jarrett says, looking to Jorge for another reprimand, "oops. Sorry."
From the sidelines, it's Jorge who gets congratulated by a show of handclaps and heralded, "good job, Jorgie!"
With the mentality, "can we just get on with it, guys?"
Jarrett wasn't the only who's cock was fully loaded, waiting. All it would take is a slight stroking or lick of the tongue and the gel could keep flowing beyond the point of no return!
Then, from the sidelines there steps a young fellow, "Jarrett, we got a problem. I've gotta talk."
Of all his associates, none other could be more important, pressing a matter, to put himself above all others, than his own flesh and blood, "Glenn, what're you doing here?"
Made never to reveal family ties, Glenn says, "private?"
Then Jarrett was outted, Emmanuel, because he knew he could say it and get away with it, "next thing you know, Junior' here will have Uncle' on his knees!"
They crowd, of which there were maybe 1 or 2 strangers, new fellows to the flock, roared with laughter, slapping Emmanuel on the back, for having the guts to finally confess what they were all dying to say.
Even though no one was supposed to know Glenn was related to Jarrett, because Jarrett didn't hire `family', they all knew the special bond between uncle and nephew!
With steel eyes, Jarrett stare at him, "you're fired, Emm!"
"Yeah, right Jarrett. See you Monday morning," he walks away with the others, turning to make sure he was still on payroll, "oh, and what time was that board meeting?"
"9am."
Poor Dane, still eagle-spread, his balls in the wind, calls out over his shoulder, "Hey guys, what about me?"
How much Jarrett had wanted to jerk off! Instead, gel here and there slicked up the sides of his shaft. Now, he was resigned to pulling up the board shorts, same still on from the beach, having been dropped to the ankles, sighed as he bent over to pull them up over knees, stuff his junk back inside.
It didn't go unsaid, "if my shorts have gel stains, you're paying to have them cleaned! By the way, who's fido?"
Finally Glenn says something about the guy next to him, down on all fours, collared, leashed and being a good pup, "oh, you can get up now Ken."
Right away Jarrett questions, "what's this about, Glenn?"
Glenn, who was into young pups, would normally give a hard pull on the leash or kick his mutt in the gut with his toe, but in the direct opposite, begins dissembling the outfit, starting with the collar buckle, "they were giving me a hard time about Kenny, so we drove down to the pet shop and outfitted him. He's not really a `pup'."
"Oh, wondered about that," Jarrett had thoughts, after Glenn had mentioned `pet shop', "I would think, with your interest, you would have a whole trunk of accessories, no?"
Too, if Ken were really a `pup', he would not have spoken out, "I drove."
Glenn further explaining, exchanging eye glances between himself and Ken, "my car's in the shop."
Jarrett noticed, but was anxious to find out why Glenn had to barge in and ruin a perfectly good shoot-off between friends.
It made him stop in his tracks, when realizing it not only Glenn following him.
"This," Glenn, who wears short leather pants, leather suspenders, looking like a Swiss sheep boy from `The Sound Of Music', blond hair, smooth bod, introduces the semi-lookalike, "is my step-brother, Ken."
"Step-brother?" Jarrett didn't get it. "Like, how did that happen?"
He probably didn't get it, because his sister had so many husbands over the course of ten years, how could anyone keep track?
"It's complicated."
"Nice to make your acquaintance sir," Ken steps forward, offering a handshake.
To Jarrett, Ken wasn't much to look at, but he was biased, liking his men hairy, meat on the bones, except for the parts he couldn't see, wouldn't be fair to assume. Whereas Ken didn't as much have a `throw rug', "yeah, good to know you."
"He's a Hardig," Glenn starts to fill in the blanks. Jarrett, at least thinking Ken has a hardy handshake, "Oh?"
"Like I said, it's complicated. You know how mom hates us gay guys?"
"Oh? Should I be drawing a picture here?"
Ken was left in the dark, but tried following conversation.
"I knew you would see it my way."
"Haven't I always?"
It's one of the things Jarrett liked about his nephew, he had a lot of moxie. If he hadn't, most likely Glenn wouldn't be working for him.
Going back years and years and years, growing up in a not so conventional family life, half of it spent at boarding school, Glenn has learned to make us life, before it owned him. Smart in school, he graduated with honors from prestigious business schools.
Like it was, Glenn had been shipped off to boarding school in the first place, because Jarrett's sister didn't know what to do with a gay preteen. Whereas a lot of kids don't like it, Glenn loved it. Where else could he be his own man, learn how to push buttons', the other guys at the all-boys school his experimental playground? Smart at academics, Glenn not only used his brain, but his overly active teen shaft to rule over the campus. His second day there, he had the former campus ruler', eating out of his hand, or rather sucking out of his tube, a senior upperclassman at that.
Graduating at the top of his class, Glenn, who owed Jarrett not only a bank full of money, but guidance, came to him first, "look, I've got prestigious offers from a lot of well known companies, but I'd much rather work in the family company."
It sounded fishy, but he figured Glenn he owed', but still, and being you can still pull a 6-digit salary, would be why'?"
For the first time, Glenn admitted it, "I guess you've got me all figured out, uncle. I know you're gay. How do I know others aren't homophobes. I mean, if you catch me fucking a dude on the job, in some other company I might not be able to get away with it!"
"Yeah, right." Five seconds later, Jarrett pronounced, "okay, you're hired, but no fucking during company hours."
"Do you?"
"We're talking about the peon, not the boss here. You're starting at the bottom of the ladder, with entry salary. Take it or leave it."
"Seal the deal with a kiss?"
Of all the years he and Glenn have been related, other than a kiss to a youth on the forehead, neither of them have touched, except for a handshake or hug.
"Why don't we just keep it simple?"
"Fine," Glenn says, but grabs Jarrett's arm, commands him to spin around and plants one on his lips!
Jarrett, who had become a mentor of sorts for his nephew, hired him at his company. Swearing never to do so, instead of breaking his own rule regarding family hirees, he decided to abolish it. Part of what sway that opinion, was that kiss!
He hadn't seen Glenn in at least 4 years, from boarding school to college being the transition period of the then teen's life. However, at graduation, whereas his sister `couldn't make it', he was more than happy to represent the family, gazing upon Glenn's incredibly good looks, cap and gown, Glenn's beautifully combed, blond hair...he looked like an angel!
Poor Dane, no one came for him, which had Ken say as they were leaving, "aren't you going to do anything about this guy?"
In a poor state of mind, Dane snapped out of his dismal state of being, "thanks, Ken."
His smile was short lived, Glenn taking over his discipline by punching him in the stomach, "who said you were allowed to talk to my pup, boy?"
Ken walks over, stares at Dane's stomach, the red patch, "that must've hurt."
Glenn, who has grown up off and on with Ken, casually remarks, "nah, he takes gut punches all the time. He loves it. You've got a lot to learn, Kenny."
The gaze before between the two, the affectionate Kenny', Jarrett just knew something more than cousins' existed between the two. Would he ever find out?
Glenn was right. Dane took punches to the stomach like that all the time. He could get hard without touching, the gel oozing out with each punch. For now though, it stopped his griping about being let down out of his bondage as he hung there and thought about dreamy Ken!
Walking up from the basement level, even in dimly lit light, Glenn still had that luster. Different was, he seemed more bulked up. In contrast, Glenn's step-brother, Ken, was more frail looking. Not fat, but slender, it was obvious he didn't have exactly the same genes as Glenn.
"So, where is it you are from, Ken?" he tests, "or is it Kenny?" Jarrett asks as he welcomes the pair up the stairs, into a living room.
Like a victim, with cock suddenly stuffed down a throat, Glenn jumps in with, "it's Ken', not Kenny.'"
"My, aren't we testy?" Jarrett smiles.
Rather than say, Glenn just shakes his head back and forth, realizing his uncle just faked him out.
"Originally my dad and me were from Seattle."
He was shy, which to Jarrett, Ken seemed more opposite than equals with Glenn.
"I see," Jarrett was lost for much more than looking upon Glenn in his leather outfit, Ken in a pair of red briefs which read a wide `GRIP' on the branding elastic.
Not the first time Jarrett has scouted out a guy in his youth, Ken did seem young, "how old are you, Ken?"
"He's twenty," Glenn started right in on business. "Ken's in college and needs a job. What can you do for him?"
From the moment he hired Glenn, Jarrett wondered how much he would be getting himself into `family' trouble. Yet, there was a sense of moxie in Glenn's voice that Jarrett admired. Because he came to Glenn's beck and call while in boarding school and college, he sensed a total allegiance about Glenn. A feeling he had when he hired him.
Right now, Glenn was putting his trust in Jarrett, him feeling confidant to return that trust, "let me guess. My sister has cut off your college funding?"
This is the first Ken started opening up, "how did you guess?"
"You don't know how many lives my sister has ruined. Trust me, I know."
Then Jarrett feels the non-existing pat on the back, Glenn backing him up, "listen to uncle. He knows."
It brought a smile on Jarrett's lips.
Okay, so maybe Ken had nice' genes, certainly not the muscle build Glenn could boast. However, that didn't keep Jarrett's eyes from roaming, over the semi-bulked pecs, a little fuzz in the middle balance, taught abs resembling a developing 6-pack, then the chiseled reddish brown strip, seemingly flowing like a waterfall out of his navel, into the band of his GRIP' briefs. He wondered if Ken was `excited', it seeming like he had a mound there between the thighs.
"So," he looks to Glenn, "where did you think Ken would fit in?"
"I need a secretary. Ken is my choice."
He had no fears of a `Glenn-takeover', the allegiance being there, helping each other, but went with caution, "and what makes you think that?"
It was Glenn he expected, but Ken blurts out, "I was secretary of the student council, four years running, in high school and..."
Jarrett argues, "oh, you didn't get shipped off to boarding school, like the others?"
Glenn helps, "Ken's dad didn't marry mom until after high school."
Perusing Ken, Jarrett's eyes kept getting locked on the chiseled t-trail, `damn!'
"So, what do you think?"
A question like that, at a time like this?
That treasure trail in itself, never mind the treasure, though it packed a visual punch, Jarrett says, "I think maybe," he chanced it again, just like taking Glenn in, "why don't we try it and see...half-salary of course, for the first six months?"
"Half?" Glenn flew off the cuff, but wasn't too brutal, "you oughta be horse-whipped, uncle!"
"No thanks. Not into `that' end of the business!"
Scratching the back of his head, in almost a whisper, Ken drops a hint, "I could!"
Confused, Jarrett asks, "could what?"
"Never mind what Ken said," Glenn again comes to his cousin's defense.
It leaves Jarrett in a stupor, "oh. Okay I guess," he shames Glenn, "since Ken can't speak for himself?"
Purposely, before Glenn and Ken descended upon their uncle, Glenn prompted Ken not to bring up that stuff. The bondage stuff was okay, but even though Uncle Jarrett's friends were into it, the really kinky sado-maso stuff, some things were better left unmentioned.
What Ken thought, since being exposed to the goings on in the basement, not doing what Glenn said, because kinky stuff turns some guys off faster than a faucet, steps out on his own, "I've drunk piss before."
Not of Ken, but Glenn, Jarrett has finally gotten the edge, Ken's confession having Glenn throw his hands up in the air. Like, Ken was supposed to be his protege or something and failed miserably.
Instead, Jarrett walks over, embraces Ken in a bear hug, saying, "I love you Ken!"
Almost smothered in Jarrett's chest weave, Ken tries to say, "you do?"
Instead of answering the love' question after opening the chasm between bods, Jarrett says, "you don't know how long I've waited for someone to put Glenn boy' in his place!"
Jarrett knew he had pushed one of Glenn's buttons, making him think it would make a difference, the dividing line between fire and hire, if he brought things of that nature.
"He didn't mean anything by it, uncle."
On the way to the basement playroom, Ken at the wheel, Glenn kept firing do's and don'ts at him, acknowledging everyone of the rules, even though he could hardly remember half of them. But something happened when he faced Dane's red stomach and being thanked.
"I meant every word of it I said, `uncle', is that what I call you now?"
"Jarrett will be fine."
A lull ensued, each waiting for the other to say something.
Feeling the pressure put on him, Jarrett, the oldest, more the father figure than the cousins, says as he stills hangs on Ken, arm over his shoulder, "I have no problem with what you like, what you do, unless that is it's going to get you into trouble or harm you permanently."
"Thanks," Ken says meek, "uncle," on purpose, but amends, "Jarrett."
Looking to the side, with Uncle Jarrett's arm still hanging-like-buddies over his shoulders, it tickled his tastebuds to view all that dark foliage.
For Jarrett, sure he knew Ken was checking out his bod, but intermittently he got a chance to look into those baby-blue eyes.
Breaking the baby-blue ice, Glenn says, "well, does he have the job-at-full-salary, or what?"
Physically, except for Glenn's muscles and Ken's lack of, the cousins could have passed as twins. Whereas Glenn could be bold and mighty, someday he could rise to become a pillar of the business. Ken, Jarrett wasn't sure this was the right career choice. Though, because he knew himself the price of a college education, he would find something for Ken to pull a salary against.
It wasn't going to all down without a challenge, Jarrett saying, "okay. Ken is to report to you," he enunciates, "at full-salary'. But if anything goes wrong," he smiles, "it's your back that gets the lash!"
"Fine," Glenn says, like there were no harsh consequences.
Jarrett liked hearing things like that. He wishes he had more employees who could instantly stand up to accountability. But everyone wasn't like that. He was proud of Glenn.
"I'll call out business office tomorrow and have the position and salary drawn up."
Glenn contests, "at full salary, right?"
That face', the bod', even with the gleamy reflection of whatever light was available, in lieu of the dulled finish when hairy, Jarrett let being smooth, slide.
He dealt in precious gems, had the clout, the reserves, and both knew what he was worth. Looking upon both beautiful boys, it sway opinion tremendously and not just because they were family, "if you must!"
"Thanks, uncle," Glenn taps him on the bare shoulder.
"That's all I get?"
Whereas Glenn knew his mind, had this moxie about him, Ken was the opposite.
"Um, if you want," Ken gets meek and lowly, "I could start now, um, paying you back for the kindness you've shown to me?"
Right before Glenn decides to go back to the basement, he says, "you might want to take Ken up on that, uncle. He's real good at it!"
"No," Jarrett didn't believe it!
However, Glenn didn't wait around to tell what good a cocksucker Ken could be.
With thumbs in the elastic of his GRIP-pers, Ken was ready to saddle Jarrett's thighs like mounting a horse.
"Uh," Jarrett stood, "no. I mean. There's no need to thank me," was how he sought an out to this ensuing situation.
Then, to save the day, in walks Tyler.
"So glad to see you, Ty!"
They were chummy, but more chummy when Tyler knew something was up, "and what else?"
In his ear, as Jarrett was greeting friend with a chummy hug, "uh, what's-`is-name-again?"
He knew he would be giving up a lot, just getting to know, "Chase," but Tyler liked the corporate funding he and the beach received for lifesaving efforts, head of the lifeguard team.
"Chase!" Jarrett called him out, taking the lad by the arm, "I'd like you to meet Ken here..."
Well,' Tyler thought, standing there, arms criss-crossed against his furry chest wrap that he walked in with, there goes another one!'
Truthfully, as Tyler showed Chase around, it became obvious they didn't click. Business owner, pillar of the surfing community, head honcho down at the lifeguard station, he looked more for followers', than leaders'. Observing Chase, meeting this new dude Jarrett had with him, certainly it looked like the 18-year old lad had found a `follower' of his own!
Jarrett knew there was a connection there, Chase and Ken looking each other up and down, like viewing a hunk of meat on display to pick out for a barbecue.
Just outside the old bomb shelter bunker, the two start up conversation.
"Hey."
"Hey."
"You ever been to one of these?" Chase questions Ken.
"Nope. Not until my cousin brought me in a few minutes ago. You?"
"Not really. I mean, I know what goes on. You?"
As it volleyed back and forth, Jarrett bowed out, slowly stepping backwards into Tyler's perimeter, until an elbow met his fuzzy stomach, "oh. Excuse me."
"Any harder and it would be constituted as a full-fledged gut punch!"
Rubbing the ball of his elbow on Tyler's tummy trail, "oh really? You'd probably like that, huh?"
"Not in the mood," Tyler comes to stand next to, instead of behind Jared.
In the mood, but if he can't get it the way he wants, Jarrett presents, "how about a little one-on-one?"
A friendly despise, for taking Chase away from him, even though Tyler's purpose for bringing the lad there was to unload him, onto someone more suitable, he sarcastically says, "why don't you go find a mirror and do some one-on-one?"
"Ooh, that's cold. What bugs up your ass?"
"Never mind. I gotta go."
Even though Jarrett could take some of this comedic ridicule, his jaw dropped open, as Tyler gave him his back in walking away.
"Have it your way, Burger King!" Jarrett laughs, but thinking about Tyler's meaty pecs, all covered in soft silk...
Whereas he thought he was doing a good thing, setting Ken up with Chase, an act on the spur of the moment, it left him without a playmate for the night!
"Oh well," Jarrett signs long and hard, "alone again...another lonely night!"
Then, twisting and turning around, he realizes he's standing in the company of one outside the bunker.
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Copyright 2019 T. Chase McPhee
`GeLOuS' and developing segments of this story, may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.